Lucky Escape
by BrightonBrightonBrighton
Summary: AU story with a fan pairing of SebastianxMey-Rin. Mey-Rin arrives on the exclusive island of Lucky to begin her honeymoon, mysteriously minus her husband Lao. Greeted by the 'butler' Sebastian, but no other staff, it appears that she was not expected at all - and her new husband has been up to more than just a dalliance with his mistress Ran-Mao.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

He didn't resemble any butler that Mey-Rin had ever imagined. Even for a south Pacific island. Her mental images of a deferential collar-and-tie, coat-tails, white gloves and handy parasols scattered.

Momentarily, he looked equally surprised. As well he might, garbed only in a navy towel, slung low around the hips.

"I wasn't expecting anyone," he said at last, once the exchange of shocked stares reached breaking point.

"That explains it," she said in turn, finding her voice, and with it her self-assurance. "Maybe because we booked from the other side of the date-line? I'm Mey-Rin… Mey-Rin Lao, I mean. We've booked _Lucky_ for our honeymoon."

"'We?'" he repeated, scanning the boat-plane and jetty behind her, only occupied by the pilot, busy unloading her cases.

"Turns out it's just me." She swallowed down the hard lump in her throat, as her face flushed. Hopefully the blinding sunlight would disguise it. "Mr. Lao had a last-minute engagement."

"Ah," he said. "I must have misunderstood when he called to cancel."

"Cancel?" she squeaked. Anger surged upward, contributing to her blushing state.

The under-dressed butler nodded.

"So nothing is ready, I'm afraid," he continued. "There's a very nice hotel, with bars and restaurants, back on…"

"I'm tired," she announced, forcing down her temper and folding her arms, as if to resist shaking her fists, which at the moment was exactly what she felt like doing. Not to mention stamping her feet, bursting into tears, jumping off the nearest cliff and screaming bloody murder. "And parched. I've just travelled halfway around the world for my honeymoon, minus my husband, and what I really want is a rest - right now."

He folded his own arms in an equally stubborn gesture, and drummed his fingertips on a bare bicep, considering her sweltering and none-too-elegant figure critically.

_Who does this guy think he is? _More frustration and injustice boiled inside her than she felt she could safely contain. _A few days to himself and he's parading around naked like he owns the place…_

"If I could just use the phone or a computer, I'll call Mr. Lao - or his office - to clear things up with the owner directly," she suggested, appealing to his sense of loyalty.

She hoped he had any. That looked like a designer towel he was currently abusing.

Acknowledgement emerged on his hitherto distantly irritated expression, and a spark of hope fired inside her.

"No need," he said, quietly. "There's no other staff here, as they weren't going to be needed, but so long as you don't mind the inconvenience - I'm sure you could stop here and get your rest." He waved to the pilot of the seaplane, and beckoned him to bring the bags up to the house. "Come and take a seat on the terrace - excuse me while I make myself decent, and then I'll show you to the guest lodge."

"I understood that we had booked the main house," Mey-Rin remarked, gesturing up at the gigantic, sprawling stone and timber façade, half-embedded into the surrounding tropical greenery.

"Of course." He hesitated. "I mean, you can rest in the guest lodge, until the house is ready for you."

"Oh." No staff on hand, and thanks to Lao, they weren't expecting anyone anyway - he probably needed to run around with a duster. She reached the top step of the terrace, and sank gratefully into a deeply padded wicker seat. "Of course. Thank you, er…"

"Sebastian," he said.

"Mr. Sebastian," she nodded.

"Help yourself." He pointed to the refrigerated bar on the terrace. "I would offer to serve you, but I don't think I'm dressed for it."

With that, he turned away and headed indoors.

God, his attitude was dreadful! Mey-Rin wondered if he just lay in wait for guests, acting as if they were a surprise to him every time - then got away with providing half-hearted service and little attention, while they felt they imposed on his hospitality.

When she had been a domestic, no-one who valued their job would even consider treating visitors with such arrogant indifference…

**XxX**

Another of Lao's little princesses on his doorstep - only this time, minus Lao. Probably due to the fact she'd dragged him down the aisle! He'd definitely been clear not to expect them on the message he left - said he was going to Venice with Ran-Mao, his long-term old flame that kept re-igniting.

Must have been a shock to wake up actually married. Sebastian smirked to himself as he tossed the towel into the linen basket and headed for the dressing-room. That was the thing about the Lao family - trained from birth to watch out for gold-diggers and honey-traps. It would come as a nasty surprise if one caught _him_ unawares.

_Not like the rest of us_, he thought wryly, surveying the rails of shirts and pants, dismissing anything too garish or casual. _No special training or warnings given…_

But you could still learn from the mistakes of others. As he shrugged on a white shirt, Sebastian was glad of Lao for keeping those reminders coming. Although maybe not for leaving those mistakes wandering around loose to be resolved by others, when he couldn't be bothered.

As if no-one else had their own problems. Sebastian sighed. Hopefully she could be persuaded that the hotel on the next island was a more attractive option. Then perhaps he'd properly have the place to himself, in which to regain his own sense of sanity and autonomy.

_Bad butler_, he smiled.

**XxX**

Mey-Rin was pinning up the escaped tendrils of her hair when he emerged again, back arched in the chair as she peeled the long waves off her damp neck. Her hands flew to her lap modestly as he appeared, embarrassed at having been caught preening already, as Lao would call it, in front of another man.

"Not thirsty?" he remarked, seeing that she hadn't moved since sitting down.

"I couldn't decide," she replied. "What do you recommend after a long trip?"

"Hmmm." He went around the bar. "How about a spritzer? Or I can mix up a mean Sangria."

"Whatever has the least amount of alcohol in it," she said.

"Something without alcohol?"

She nodded.

Didn't sound like one of Lao's usual lady-_fiends_. Sebastian opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of sparkling mineral water.

_Unless… maybe that's how she got him down the aisle… and sent him on a runner with his mistress all at the same time…_

He dropped some lime and cucumber into a tall glass, and not too much ice.

"Can I get you something to eat?" he added, a little less abruptly.

"I don't suppose you can make a decent bacon sandwich…" she muttered, and he could hear her stomach growl from the far side of the terrace.

"I could make you an indecent bacon sandwich," he smiled, and her look of hunger mixed with affront amused him even more. "How about I have a go at making one, and you can give me your opinion on whether I'm any good at it afterwards?"

"Wouldn't it be easier just to ask how I like it made first?" she snapped wearily.

"No fun in that. Besides, I never remember verbal instructions," he said, and striding by, deposited the glass on the table in front of her. "Won't be long."

And he disappeared inside again.

**XxX**

Mey-Rin scowled at his infuriating behaviour, but grasped the cold glass greedily, gulping down the liquid without a care for appearing ladylike. The chill from it saturated her being instantly with more-than-welcome relief. For a few moments she luxuriated in the sensation, temporarily blotting out the pervasive, horrible recollections of her wedding reception only three days earlier.

Lao was a rat. A gold-plated prize rat. She was only sorry she hadn't taken more than the honeymoon tickets and luggage before she left. She could have got away with - _deserved_ - so much more…

_Or maybe I don't_, she thought miserably. Everyone had warned her about him. The evidence was all over the place - his past, his over-subscribed contacts list, the messages that never stopped. Her life had gone from a fantasy to a dream to a nightmare. She'd been his patsy, his love-struck blinded bimbo willing to overlook the hectic social life and romantic attention deficit - even having helped to conceal some of it from his previous partners - until her efficient, loyal attitude apparently won his heart, changed his tune, turned over his new leaf, and she in turn was bowled over by the flattery, that he would even consider her as a reason for suddenly speaking in clichés all the time… _'__You're my Cinderella' _he said on so many occasions…

But beyond all the speed-dates and escorts and internes passing through his calendar that she had carefully managed, there had always been Ran-Mao in the background. Glamorous, successful, married Ran-Mao - who, startlingly and amicably, citing incompatibility, divorced her older husband two months ago when he developed a penchant for rubber, to which she was allergic. Or perhaps she developed the allergy after the penchant was established? Mey-Rin wasn't sure. And suddenly, Lao was consulting with Ran-Mao all the time. Over this business deal or that, this magazine cover photo or that, even this wedding venue or that…

They'd obviously discussed that particular one in detail, with special focus on the nooks and crannies they could slip into unnoticed.

Except by the wedding photographer, who in a selfless gesture of his own, handed the multimedia memory card directly to Mey-Rin, rather than attempt to profit from it. Lao would willingly have paid him off for life.

_Now he'll just have to pay me off instead_, she seethed, and bit into an ice-cube, the crunching of shards in her mouth substituting for the teeth-grinding that she really felt like doing.

"Not quick enough for you, I see?" The butler's return gave her a start, and she looked down at the large stoneware plate that slid in front of her. Doorstep-cut granary bread layered with crispy grilled bacon was heaped seductively in the middle, alongside a fragrant salad effort of sliced tomato, black olives and mozzarella, oozing with French dressing. "Tomato ketchup? Brown sauce? Mayo? Mustard? Barbecue sauce…?"

"Oh my God…" Eyes glued to the impromptu feast, Mey-Rin couldn't remember what or when she last ate. Had she even touched the wedding breakfast three days ago? "Get inside meeee…"

"Pardon?" Now it was the butler's turn to squeak.

"The sandwich," she breathed, snatching it up and taking a bite. _Heaven. _"Ummm… ummm… mmmm… ketchup. Please…"

"Sure." Somewhat bemused, the not-completely-useless Mr. Sebastian went over to the bar and returned with a bottle of tomato ketchup. "Oh - this has chilli in it. I'll go to the kitchen and find another."

"No!" Mey-Rin held out a hand imploringly. "Chilli's good, I like chilli. Gimme."

**XxX**

Sebastian watched her wolf down the food, fascinated. Most women that Lao brought over dropped a mask or two once they reached the seclusion of Lucky Island - usually to show themselves up as peevish, whining, bored and high-maintenance divas who wanted a bit of nightlife and shopping, or at the very least a phone signal, and who tried to make the household staff feel uneducated, uncomfortable, uncultured and unappreciated at every opportunity.

Almost the opposite was happening under his curious gaze now. She was turning practically feral. The designer pumps were already kicked off, handbag forgotten and spilling its modest contents underneath the table.

"Another glass of water?" he offered, pointing to the empty glass, and her nod of response was almost frantic.

What was Lao on when he picked this one? Let alone married it? Sebastian boggled as he returned to the bar. He wasn't into the Cinderella-types, or the charity cases. And yet here she was. Wearing what anyone would recognise as a Lao family rock on her finger. Some smart snooping was definitely in order.

"Your water, Mrs. Lao," he said, placing it on a fresh napkin.

She half-snorted, as if at an unshared irony, but seemed to swallow it down along with her mouthful, and muttered "Thanks."

And then - getting rid of her would be preferable.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

What was he staring at? Shouldn't butlers be seen and not heard? Or not seen at all, unless you wanted something?

He looked a lot more presentable, anyway, now he was dressed in a white shirt, silver-grey waistcoat and linen trousers - no tie, but she guessed it was too hot for the full traditional three-piece suit and dicky-bow. The unruly black hair was combed back neatly behind his ears, and he'd quickly shaved off the lazy stubble, highlighting his beautifully symmetrical square jaw and angled cheekbones, a perfect setting for the most hypnotically sardonic eyes that Mey-Rin had ever seen.

_He'll be asking what I'M staring at if I'm not careful_, she realised, and concentrated instead on mopping up the last of the French dressing with her sandwich crusts. How did that sly git Lao get to be such a stud? Compared to this hunk of manservant, Lao was a hunchbacked desk-driving little troll.

_And compared to Ran-Mao, I'm a chubby little chequebook-chaser_, she groaned inwardly. A gym-hating, control-panty-wearing, bacon-sandwich-loving, upwardly-mobile upstart. She'd believed that Lao was tired of unrealistic, aloof women, and found her curves and modest stature comforting, natural, and she had dared think it - potentially maternal. Now - she didn't know what to believe. Everything she thought she had known for the last eighteen months had been shattered.

And that butler was _still_ staring…

**XxX**

Sebastian had as many questions heaping up as she did, some of them along the same theme. Sure, Lao pulled in a few exotics occasionally, to enhance his regular stable of vacuous leggy blondes with double-barrelled surnames. But this almond-eyed pretty redhead was something else entirely. Not supermodel material. Not Hollywood starlet or Broadway songbird. Not hotel heiress, and definitely not an entitled title of somewhere-or-other.

Who _was _she? _Besides 'Mrs. Lao'?_

"Is Mr. Lao planning on joining us later in the week?" he said, diffidently.

Her dark eyes flashed something - anger, defensiveness - he couldn't tell.

"Maybe," she said tightly, dabbing her mouth with the napkin. "He's very busy."

"I'll need to know for certain in order to summon a full staff," he continued. "That's why I thought you might be more comfortable in the meantime on one of the larger populated islands."

"We booked this one," she replied flatly. "Can't you ask the staff to come back anyway? I'm here - shouldn't the house be staffed?"

"I'm here too." He looked down at himself. "Not enough for your needs?"

"Supposing I want to take a boat trip?"

"I think I could manage without you for a few hours."

"No…" She pulled a face. "I can't sail."

"So what would you be doing with a boat?" he asked, enjoying her exasperated expression. "I'm confused."

"Who would take me out?" His blank face seemed to aggravate her even more. "On the water?"

"Oh… I can do that."

"What? Isn't your job - housekeeping?"

"I'm multi-skilled," he grinned. "Butler of all trades."

"Supposing I want my hair and nails done? Or a massage?"

_Aha_. The high-maintenance diva was emerging after all.

"That might be a bit more of a challenge, but I could be persuaded," he replied, keeping a straight face. "Do you need a massage now? I had a towel on me just a moment ago…"

Her look of horror wasn't the usual response to his offer of massage, but it was the desired one.

"What…" she managed to blurt.

"I think what you really need is a proper hotel," he reiterated, still managing to remain serious. "Room service, salon, bar. Lots of people to look after you…"

**XxX**

Mey-Rin felt her resistance weakening. People running around at her beck and call… it did sound nice…

But then she recalled she'd come here only with what she grabbed from their safe at the wedding venue. She had no money of her own to book into a hotel. She didn't even have a card for their joint account on her. Her own pocket funds would barely pay for a drink and a snack in one of the bars around here.

She'd have to play it stubborn. Three weeks of luxury had been booked and settled in advance, and three weeks of luxury she was damn well going to have.

"I think I'm big enough to look after myself," she said. "If the rooms are ready, I'd like to go and lie down."

He seemed prepared to fight another round, but she was prepared to be as inflexible as her finances.

"Now, please?" she hinted, summoning just enough warning tone.

"I'll take you to the guest lodge," he announced, after only the briefest pause, and picked up her bags. "The house will be ready in a couple of hours, but you can sleep at the lodge if you need to."

"Fine." With a sigh, she managed to shuffle her feet back into her pumps, and retrieved the mess from her purse.

The guest lodge was a short stroll from the main house along a boardwalk through the trees, and was far more than the basic annexe she was expecting. More of a high-end tree-house greeted her, with its own balcony, hammock, sitting-room, en-suite, and four-poster bed under a crimson mosquito-net, with matching bed-linens.

Sebastian pulled a cord to raise the mosquito netting. Damn, that bed looked inviting.

"There's a bell here you can ring if you need anything," he pointed out, indicating the very old-school bell-pull by the bed. "And I can ring you in turn for things like meals - or when the house is ready for you to move into. Would you like me to ring when the time comes, or would you rather sleep through until you're ready?"

"No bells," said Mey-Rin. "Unless there's a fire. I'll wake myself up."

"Okay, but you ring me if you're coming over to the house, so I can look out for you. It gets dark quickly out here."

"Sure." She glanced at him, and towards the door. "Thank you, Mr. Sebastian."

"Would you like me to call the hotel in case you change your mind?"

"I'll be fine. That's all, thank you."

"Yes, Mrs. Lao."

He closed the door behind him.

Relieved, Mey-Rin kicked her shoes back off and perched tentatively on the edge of the high bed, before permitting herself to roll back and look up at the wooden ceiling through the drapery. She could quite happily doze off like this for just a few…

**XxX**

Sebastian strode back to the house. He always knew Lao was asking for trouble, but never expected it to materialise. She was either a very persuasive gold-digger or a very clever sperm-jacker, but neither one or the other had ever pushed Lao into matrimony before. He just got the chequebooks out, gave them what they wanted, and then they moved onto the next schmuck.

She just didn't seem to be his usual type. Nothing wrong with her, a perfectly attractive little thing - just not in the typical packaging that one was accustomed to seeing as an accessory to Lao's lifestyle.

Sebastian headed into the study and checked Lao's forwarded message. Yes - it clearly said that the honeymoon was 'cancelled' and that he would be in Venice. Ran-Mao's name wasn't actually mentioned, but Ran-Mao and Venice were inextricably connected in Lao's travelling history. No reason was given for the cancellation - so as far as anyone could tell, the wedding had gone ahead, and there really was a real live Mrs. Lao. Who could be telling the truth.

But she wasn't expected to be turning up here.

Clearly, no-one had told her that.

He scanned the other items in the inbox. Eighteen unread messages from Angela now. He selected them all and deleted them, unopened. One day, he'd figure out how 'block sender' worked - even for when the sender opened a new email account to get around the previous blocks. Just a glance at the subject lines was enough to keep his own sense of hostility alive.

_DO NOT DELETE THIS! _And _DON'T IGNORE ME!_

It was like having his own personal scammer, attempting to hack into his personal details. Which was a pretty good analogy of their relationship, now he thought about it.

And now his three weeks of anticipated privacy had been invaded by another one.

So long as she got bored and moved on quickly, perhaps not for too long.

He decided against calling Lao for back-up. If Lao was already on the run from her himself, he'd be waving his chequebook at Sebastian instead, ordering him to put up and shut up.

In which case, it would be more profitable to find out what his problem was with her first.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Mey-Rin woke to the whispering of palm fronds as they brushed against the balcony. She still lay sideways across the bed, exactly as she had drifted off. Her bare feet dangled over the edge, toes not quite touching the floor.

It wasn't dark, but the room was in shadow, so the sun must be quite low in the sky on the far side of the island by now. She pushed herself up groggily. How long had she slept? Two hours? Three?

Odd - her watch said only an hour and five minutes had passed. Her mouth dry and limbs heavy, she staggered into the en suite and attempted to make herself human again. The huge mosaic-walled shower with its ventilated roof was too attractive to ignore, and she stepped under it to allow the colander-sized tap to do the work, pounding the remaining tension out of her.

Sunset was imminent when she emerged, turning the sky mauve and amber as she opened one of the suitcases and picked out a long shift dress, that she hoped would impart no-nonsense sophistication to that stuck-up know-it-all butler. He'd had plenty of time to get ready - at least two hours. Showing him that she could be prompt without prompting would put him in his place.

She pinned up her long damp red waves again in an equally no-nonsense pleat, tucked any loose curls firmly behind her ears, and set off along the boardwalk back to the mansion.

As she walked between the darkening trees, rows of fairy lights and Chinese lanterns suddenly popped into life either side of her, giving her a mild but not unpleasant start, as if something magical in the forest had acknowledged her passing.

"Oohhh," she breathed involuntarily, as the pathway ahead was bathed in gentle rainbow colours, stopping to admire the effect on the surrounding foliage.

"I was about to come and check you were still alive," interrupted the butler, and she glanced up sharply to see him waiting on the terrace. "Good thing I spotted you, it's nearly dark. You should have rung to let me know you were up."

"It's not even been two hours," Mey-Rin scoffed. "No need to be checking up on me so soon…"

"It's Wednesday evening," he informed her. "You arrived yesterday afternoon."

"What?" she gasped.

"You've been here over twenty-four hours already," he confirmed. "You must have been exhausted. I assumed you were working your way through the mini-bar in the lodge and waiting for Mr. Lao's arrival."

"Has he called?"

Sebastian shook his head, and for some reason she felt almost relieved.

"The house is ready if you'd like me to move your things indoors," he continued, calmly.

"Of course." She felt dazed. She'd slept for a whole day! Good thing this wasn't a weekend break - she'd have missed half of it already…

"Can I get you anything first?" he suggested, and looked her up and down as she stepped onto the terrace, with rather too much scrutiny. She noticed his uniform had also changed to a darker waistcoat and pants since earlier. "You must be starving."

"Just some coffee to start with." She rubbed her forehead, trying to re-evaluate the situation. _Dang goes putting the smug butler in his rightful place_, she thought. _Gah_…

"In or out?" he queried, and his eyes glinted at her nonplussed glare. "On the front terrace? Or there's a nice view from the lounge."

Mey-Rin nodded, and followed him indoors as he grinned and beckoned. _Smug butler _suited him down to the ground. _He's a Smutler_, she improvised in her head, a thought which quite cheered her up.

Until it was instantly forgotten, in the incandescence of the room which awaited her.

The full-length bi-fold window was open to allow an uninterrupted view of the sunset, a larger terrace beyond ending in an infinity pool overlooking the island's western coastline.

"I'll get your coffee," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice at her evident shell-shock, and disappeared again.

Mey-Rin prided herself in her usual coolness over things that were purely aesthetic, which had made her a level-headed and sensible personal assistant. But even though what she knew she was mostly witnessing now was Mother Nature doing her everyday thing, merely framed by a bit of architecture and a water-feature, she couldn't help standing there agape, like a gob-smacked goldfish.

"Where would you like this?" Sebastian interrupted again already, and she had no idea how long she had stood rooted to the same spot, transfixed. He motioned the tray towards the seating under the canopy outdoors. "Here? Or inside?"

"Thank you." Mey-Rin felt as though she was gliding on rollers out onto the warm terracotta tiles, and sinking involuntarily into the sofa, glued to the view.

"I brought you some brochures from the other islands, in case you start to feel a bit isolated out here," he said smoothly, pouring out her coffee with care. "What would you like for dinner? There's still bacon."

"Lao said…" Mey-Rin frowned, vaguely. "Mr. Lao said the menus had all been arranged in advance."

"So they have. I just wondered if you had any other personal preferences when dining alone."

Mey-Rin felt the dig at the word 'alone' and it occurred to her that the menus had been wholly arranged without her input. She had trusted that Lao knew her tastes, but now wondered if it was also something he had discussed with Ran-Mao instead, without her knowledge.

"I like chicken," she said, cautiously. "Rice - curry - Chinese food - barbecue. All the usual suspects, you could say."

"All at the same time?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No," she scowled. "Don't be daft."

**XxX**

Sebastian suppressed a smile. Not the usual suspects, when it came to Lao's companions. Usually, they'd order a swordfish steak salad, eat only the watercress, and down two bottles of Merlot for dinner. So perhaps the squid and raw steak previously designated as _carpaccio_ and _yuk hwe _for the couple's first meal could be made alternative use of. Ran-Mao had a thing for Korean cuisine, he recalled.

Besides - if this Mey-Rin was a sperm-jacking bride, raw meat was among the least advisable.

"There's a barbecue I can start right here if you'd like?" he said, gesturing towards the far end of the terrace.

**XxX**

More of a fully-fitted outdoor kitchen, Mey-Rin noted, observing the pizza oven and granite surfaces.

"That would be nice," she agreed, and turned her gaze down to the tray, noticing the hotel brochures for the first time. Understated, silk-finish printing, and artfully close-up images of wine glasses, candles and rose-petals hinted of things she would think twice about paying for, even if she had the joint account card with her.

Her heart sank. With the alternative being three weeks in the company of _Mr. Smutler_, she was starting to wish it was that simple.

He was messing around in the terrace kitchen now, having brought out various food containers. Something soon started sizzling under a metal cover, while he set about chopping tomatoes for a salad or salsa. But the silence felt awkward.

What was missing?

"Is there any music?" Mey-Rin asked suddenly.

"Huh?" He winced, as the point of the knife slipped. "Whoops. How much blood do you like in your tomatoes?"

She jumped to her feet and hurried over, as he dropped the knife and groped around for a hand-towel.

"It's okay, I'll just run it under the tap," he said, rather alarmed by her sudden interest.

"No - hold it up in the air," she corrected. "Above your head. And put pressure on it. Not with that towel - use a clean napkin…"

He grinned wryly as she took his wrist and surveyed the damage.

The sharp vegetable knife had sliced neatly into the pad of his bare ring finger. Inwardly scolding herself for noticing such an irrelevant detail, she covered it with a paper napkin and held it upward. He was quite a bit taller than her, so he was obliged to take the hint, and moved his arm higher, out of reach.

"You can move fast when you want to," he remarked, still smiling as she withdrew. "Are you a First Aid expert?"

"First Aid in the workplace trained," she said, and threw a glance over the chopping board before skulking back to her seat, working on her composure once more. "Sorry. Gut reaction."

"Don't worry, I'll throw those away and start again," he assured her. "I'll get a plaster from the box to cover it when it stops bleeding. Are people normally accident-prone where you work?"

"Sometimes around safety pins," she admitted. "Or falling off their high shoes… I'm an administrative manager at the fashion studio."

"I wondered if you had anything to do with modelling," he mused.

She gave him a sceptical look over her coffee cup.

"I just schedule bookings for shoots, organise the diary and do general reception and I.T. work," she shrugged.

"Been doing it long?"

"Er, no," she admitted, with an unexpected, embarrassed laugh. "I was a P.A. before that… and before that, I was a nanny. Been working in different jobs since I was seventeen. Had a stroke or two of luck, and here I am."

"Here you are indeed," Sebastian repeated, sounding even more intrigued.

"What about you, have you always been a butler?"

Sebastian chuckled.

"No," he said. "Not long at all."

"What did you do before?"

"After university - I travelled, worked for a few family businesses, on and off, travelled again - liked the travelling a bit too much… and I guess, here I am."

Mey-Rin nodded. That explained why he was so keen to get rid of her.

"So this is like a working holiday to you?" she guessed.

"You could say that, yes." He lowered his arm to inspect the cut, and raised it again for a bit longer.

"The less work, the better?" she suggested, a knowing glint in her eye.

"Yup," he said, to humour her. "Don't go getting any demanding diva notions."

Mey-Rin, who had been lining up ideas to make his job as irritating as possible if he gave her too much attitude, wondered if he was being serious or sharing a joke.

"What was it you asked for?" he remarked. "Before I decided to add finger to your food."

"Music," she said, quietly.

"Oh, yes." He pointed to the table in front of her. "There's a media control panel in the middle just there. Tap on it and the menu should pop up."

The glass table centrepiece turned out to be one big tablet computer. Mey-Rin immediately felt more at home, interacting with technology rather than the sole company of a stranger. She found a soothing classical play-list and selected a tune to start, which emerged from unseen speakers around the pool, and occupied herself playing with the accompanying lighting effects, now that dusk was setting in.

"Nice," Sebastian murmured, now fully Band-Aided and back to the job of cooking. "Good choice."

Mey-Rin ignored him studiously, not having invited his input. Lao's housekeeper had a much more limited vocabulary. It was 'Good (insert time of day) Miss Mey-Rin' and nothing else, pretty much, unless a question was directed at her. And the woman was practically invisible anyway. Lao's routines, when he was at home, required little in the way of prompting. Everything was clean, and replenished, and re-stocked during the working day, and if there was a dinner party later on, food was magically prepared and everything laid out ready - the woman must come and go by the kitchen window, she was so unobtrusive…

The thought occurred to Mey-Rin that unlike Lao's domestic, the Lucky Island butler Sebastian lived here on the premises.

It bugged her all the while he was cooking, and the level in the coffee-pot was rapidly lowering. She flipped through the hotel brochures just for something to do, unable to ignore the concern from the second it popped into her head. There must be an annexe - or a separate apartment, somewhere in the huge house, or elsewhere on the island.

"I hope you're ready to eat," he interrupted, as trays and cutlery started to appear in front of her. The smell suggested to her again that cooking skills weren't something he needed to work on - maybe just his chopping skills.

"Do you have your own kitchen as well here?" she asked, and he looked briefly confused at the query. "For yourself, I mean."

"I live in the basement," he confirmed. "It's got everything. Separate entrance, straight out onto the beach."

"Oh." Mey-Rin picked up a napkin to open out onto her lap. "That sounds nice."

"It is," he agreed. "So no peeking when I go for my early-morning skinny-dip."

Her jaw went slack as she wondered what to say.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked. "Any more sauces? More coffee? Mineral water? Cigarettes? I forgot to ask if you smoke. There's a full wine cellar going to waste as well."

Mey-Rin looked at the spread in front of her, struggling to find a mental foothold in the unexpected twists and turns that the conversation was taking. She felt completely out of control of things, every time she opened her mouth.

"Maybe a white wine spritzer," she said at last. "Not too strong. Whatever you recommend."

"Yes, Mrs. Lao."

She piled salad and chilli-marinaded barbecue steak strips onto her plate, finding room for garlic-sautéed potato and parmesan-dredged calamari as well. Wherever his attitude was coming from, his cooking very nearly made up for it.

Maybe her Mr. Smutler was one of those butlers who got work in spite of having an attitude problem. A _chef savant_. A _Mansavant! _He'd hand out abuse, personal judgements, and horrible criticism of everything you wore, while doing perfect hand-starched collars and Eggs Benedict. Some employers liked staff with a bit of sass. Lucky's owner must be one of those. Unlike Lao, who preferred them invisible - like his private life…

Brooding, Mey-Rin forgot to taste her food as she chewed, and reached for the wine glass dully as it clinked onto the table in front of her.

"How is everything?" Sebastian enquired.

"Fine," she grunted distantly, chugging down a big gulp of spritzer, as if it would help swallow her fragile mood.

"You're welcome," he said, a little coldly, and turned away to clean up the barbecue area.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Through her battling thoughts and emotions, Mey-Rin felt a twinge of guilt.

"Sorry," she called over. "It's lovely. I was just having a grumpy moment."

"No problem," he said, barely glancing back at her. "Is it something you need?"

_Yes - a loyal husband_, she thought wretchedly.

"Nothing you should be bothered about," she admitted.

"Don't be afraid to speak up otherwise," he replied, wiping down the granite. "I'm full of surprises."

"Shoulder to cry on…?" she murmured to herself, through a mouthful of calamari.

"Did you say something?"

"The food's amazing," she said aloud. "You're really good."

"So I'm told," he replied, and smiled when she caught his eye.

But it was reassuring. Mey-Rin congratulated herself on steering the unwieldy ship of their conversation back into safer waters, and opted not to risk pushing it any further.

**XxX**

Sebastian dawdled over the cleaning and tidying, scouring the grill with unnecessary thoroughness, giving her as much chance to spontaneously open up about her situation as he could. Most women would be an open book, handed the opportunity - leaking anything they considered to be of interest, or wanted to offload.

Not this one, apparently. She must have been a trustworthy P.A, with the ability to stay this closed. He was beginning to see the appeal that would have for someone like Lao.

But her ongoing reticence just frustrated Sebastian. There were things he wanted to know. Such as why Lao would ditch his wife after the wedding, leaving her to honeymoon by herself. Not telling her that the private resort had been cancelled. And why had he even gone as far as to get married? _Excuse me, Mrs. Lao, would you mind peeing on this little white stick…?_

"Did you say something?" Mey-Rin asked.

"Oh, was I mumbling?" He hoped that last one wasn't out loud. Here he was, expecting her to do the talking! "Sorry, force of habit. Usually there's no-one around to listen."

**XxX**

"Didn't they teach you that staff should be seen and not heard?" she remarked dryly.

"And preferably not seen either, unless their services are required," he replied. "I'll fetch your things from the lodge. Would you like me to unpack for you as well?"

"Er…" Mey-Rin had a moment's horror at the thought of this strange single man rifling through her honeymoon lingerie and nightwear. Or control-tummy swimsuits. "Not yet. In case I decide to switch rooms."

"Good thinking, Mrs. Lao."

He saw straight through that excuse, she guessed, noticing the slight smirk as he departed. _Let him be nosy. It's the only thrill he'll get._

**XxX**

Sebastian did hesitate before leaving the two larger suitcases in the dressing-room of the master suite. Why two, accompanied by two matching vanity cases?

A glance at the monograms confirmed things, and a peek inside one of the smaller ones at the masculine toiletries. One set of luggage was Lao's. So perhaps the honeymoon wasn't as fully cancelled as the message suggested. Sebastian supposed it could have been typed in a hurry. Especially if he really did have other business in Venice to attend to.

Deciding to take the most professional stance, he went to the study to send an official reply to the absent spouse:

_Mrs. Lao has arrived safely on schedule with your luggage, and is settling in. Let us know your expected arrival date. We look forward to having you join us at Lucky._

_Sincerely,_

_Sebastian_

_Resort Manager_

He thought a moment, then changed it to _Resort Manager (locum). _Made it sound more formal, incorporating a bit of Latin. And a staff shake-up on site would explain any missed communication or crossed wires, since the booking and supposed cancellation.

It would be preferable to be warned in advance if Lao was actually thinking of showing up. He'd be the one to kick up a real fuss about wanting a full staff on site.

On the other hand…

Sebastian noted the fresh stack of Angela-ammo in the email inbox, only to select and delete them again.

If Mrs. Lao turned out to be anything like _her_, then it was no wonder Lao was keeping his distance.

**XxX**

Mey-Rin was still furiously analysing herself. Rushing over to look at the vegetable knife incident! She was genuinely a responsible First-Aider - but all she could recall confirming in her mind was that he had no wedding ring on, not even a tan mark where one might have been previously. It was the first thing she looked at. She hadn't even thought about the cut in detail, let alone given more than cursory glance at the state of the tomatoes.

Why was any part of her brain interested in that information? It wasn't as if it was something she tried to establish about the men she met through work - single, married, gay, straight, it was of no concern to her. Most of her attention was focused on dealing with the women she met, and assessing the likelihood they presented of further interruptions to Lao's already full schedule.

For the first time, she wondered whether any men in the past might have been attempting to flirt with her, while she kept an eye firmly on who might be flirting with the boss - and later, flirting with the boss who became her fiancé…

"You can surf the web and send emails here," Sebastian informed her, indicating the table-top screen as he returned to find her still silently grazing on calamari rings and olives. "There's a laptop in the master suite, and a phone in nearly every room, should you want to call anyone. Can I get you anything more to drink?"

"That spritzer was nice," Mey-Rin sighed. "But I should probably have a mineral water, please."

"Of course, Mrs. Lao," said Sebastian, heading for the bar. "And have you left room for dessert? I believe a strawberry and rhubarb Pavlova was on the original menu… I made sure everything was in stock once you arrived, should anything tempt you."

Mey-Rin looked down at herself.

"I may have to notify my spare dessert tummy," she replied wryly.

"No rush," he grinned. "I'm not planning on going anywhere."

_So completely unlike Lao._

"Have you ever been married?" she blurted out suddenly, on an impulse to learn more about her enigmatic host.

"No," he replied, and his expression became a little distant. "I… haven't yet found the right woman."

"No-one has succeeded in persuading you that they are, you mean?" she suggested, with an uneasy smile. "Perhaps you're too picky."

"Perhaps," he conceded, and his expression was unreadable. "One or two may have tried." He glanced at her, and she could tell he was assessing her in turn. "How did you meet Mr Lao, may I ask?"

"I was working as a celebrity lifestyle magazine stylist, and we were invited to his friend Ran-Mao's house to do an article on her and her husband - her husband at the time…" Mey-Rin sipped her water to try and steady her voice. "Lao was there to supply some of his latest _haute couture_ fashions to use in the shoot, and we got talking about the dresses, and he mentioned he was looking for a new office assistant - he basically headhunted me from the magazine. We ended up working very closely together, and here I am…"

"Here _you_ are, indeed," Sebastian echoed, thoughtfully.

Of course. He would make a point of noting that she had arrived alone.

Annoyed at his bluntness, she supposed it was possible that the occasional housekeeper might have set their sights on this aloof and arrogant butler with his smug sense of humour. Who else was he likely to run into for a romantic liaison, working in the middle of nowhere?

A sudden blush sprang to her cheeks, as it occurred to Mey-Rin that most likely what he encountered here were bored lady holidaymakers, looking for a little alternative entertainment…

"Are you all right?" he asked, interrupting her hot and inappropriate visions of _'fully-inclusive accommodation.'_

"Er, yes…" she bluffed. "I just felt a little strange for a second…"

To her surprise, he strode over and took her hand, feeling gently for her pulse.

"Fast," he remarked, critically. "And you are too warm. Perhaps I should take your temperature?"

She stared hypnotised at his cool capable hands enfolded around her own, amazed that he couldn't _hear _the pounding of her heart right now, let alone feel it.

Why did she just have to have been imagining what he might get up to with the female guests, given half a chance? Was this the start of one of those scenarios?

Was his apparent concern for her wellbeing the beginning of an attempt at seduction?

"I think you need to lie down," he said, in a low voice.

Mey-Rin gulped, and to her alarm, all of her muscles were weakening at the thought.

"I might just try out my room," she murmured.

He offered his other hand to help her to her feet, and the early evening stars above the sea on the horizon tilted dizzily as she accepted.

_Gosh_, she thought. _Lao never has this effect on me_…

Their eyes locked, strawberry and rhubarb Pavlova completely forgotten.


End file.
